


The Act of Making Noise

by BitKahuna



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bisexual John Watson, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sherlock Holmes, M/M, Mary never happened, Pining, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-15 11:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitKahuna/pseuds/BitKahuna
Summary: John Watson had a habit of singing. Sometimes he didn't even seem to realize he was humming to himself.Sherlock always took it as a sign of John's mood. He'd never heard John outright sing, but the humming was as familiar as breathing to him. After he faked his suicide, he went two years without it.Now, after having been back a full year, he still longs to hear John hum once again.





	1. Maybe I Might Love You

Sherlock wanted very few things in his life. He wanted a dog, to be a pirate, intelligence, admiration, to stop criminals, and to retire one day and keep bees in Sussex. Though he wasn't confident he would ever be a pirate, he was on his way to achieving everything he had ever wanted. But recently, he's realized there is yet another thing he wants. He wants to hear John sing again.

The man had never sung outright, but humming or softly mumbling a song to himself had become as familiar to Sherlock as breathing. He wanted, no, he needed to hear John sing once more. The flat felt too silent without it. He tried and tried again to fill it with the noise of his violin, deductions, the TV, conversation, he's tried everything but he's come to realize that nothing will ever replace the sound of John's voice echoing through the rooms.

He doesn't even sing in the shower. Sherlock knows because he sometimes finds himself standing outside the bathroom, waiting to hear John's voice. Even Sherlock would admit to occasionally humming in the shower, but John had gone silent.

It's been very hard for the two of them, but after all they're been through, they had never been closer.

They'd picked up the odd habit of staying up late together and talking. They talked about everything. About Harry, Sherlock's future bees, John's time in the military, their childhoods, their futures, cases, Mycroft, everything they could think of. Nothing was too far or too personal.

One night, it all came to a head when John mentioned something that shook Sherlock to the very core.

"Hey, do you remember Mike Stamford?'

Mike, the man who had introduced the pair. "Of course."

"He and I messed around a bit in uni. Don't tell him I told you that, he's a bit embarrassed by it."

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, "What do you mean, you messed around together?" Sherlock could think of three different potential meaning off the top of his head, each more unlikely than the last, but he didn't have enough data to make a proper assumption.

John let a smile take over his face, a bit coy as he had to explain his meaning. "We ....." He trailed off, hoping that was enough. It wasn't. "Sherlock, we slept together."

Sherlock looked as if he had eaten something sour. He was in disbelief. "Impossible. Mike Stamford is one of the most heterosexual men I've ever met."

"Lines can get blurry when I want them to." John said with a smug smile.

Sherlock then took a moment to pause, a bit confused as this new piece of information conflicted with existing data about John. "I've never heard of you dating any men."

"Sherlock, in the past six years I've dated five different men."

"Who?" He was familiar with every girlfriend John had ever had, and now, he needed to know the names of the men who had been stealing John's affections.

"Jessie, Alex, Bailey, Quinn, and Angel."

Sherlock was dumbfounded. He recognized all five of those names, but had been under the impression that they were women. "So, you're bisexual?"

"I am."

Sherlock changed the subject as he re-cataloged John's sexuality in his mind palace. But he was still disgusted by the idea of John sleeping with Mike Stamford. Certainly John knew he could do better than Mike Stamford.

_'Revolting, John intentionally seducing Mike Stamford of all people! Compared to Mike, I'm at least a seven. Why hasn't John tried to seduce me?'_

He smiled and kept up conversation while his mind began to reel. Why did he think that? Of all things, why was jealousy a response?!

Sherlock has dealt with many things in his life, but he has never desired for someone to seduce him. He took a mental step back and began to recall his life with John. Accounting for all the highs and lows, Sherlock can easily say that he's never cared for anyone the way he cares for John. His nerves began to go off in the pit of his stomach.

He began to recall every important person and thing in his life. Molly, Lestrade, his parents, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, John, his work, his violin, his flat, and bees.

What are the things he could live without?

Molly and Lestrade were very important things in his life, and though he would miss them, he could live without them. The bees weren't even in his life yet and could be easily parted with. Mrs. Hudson was one of the best things to happen to Sherlock, but he could also part with her if needed. His parents would probably be better off without him, and although his life would be a lot harder, he could part with Mycroft. His flat wasn't extremely important to him, he didn't care too much where he lived and he knew that if he had to, he could find somewhere else. He made a good bit of money as a consulting detective. His violin was extremely important to him, it helped him think and it was one of the few things he did for pleasure. But if need be, he could live without it.

That only left John and his work.

He was married to his work, he loved his work, his work had never taken second place to anyone or anything. Except, it did.

_'My work or John, which couldn't I live with out? John.'_

The answer to the question was automatic and without hesitation. He had always planned on eventually parting with his work, retiring, and living in the country with his bees. That had always been his plan and he never had any problem with it. He always knew his work was only temporary and he was fine with that. But John. Living without John had never been part of the plan. When they first chased down a killer together, Sherlock decided that John had to be part of his life, but he never planned on being without John. Those two years he spent without his best friend were the worst of his life. Regardless of the fact that he spent it doing the work he loved, it wasn't enough, he was miserable and all he wanted was John. When he did sleep, he fell asleep wondering about how John was doing, he would often zone out and wonder if John was still living in their flat, when he was being transported between locations he would wonder if John was seeing someone new, when he was being held in a bunker as a prisoner he told himself that he would eventually find John. John is what kept him going. No matter where he was or what he was doing, John had been with him from the moment they met. He let John into his life with no plans of ever letting him leave, even after two years of being apart.

The idea of letting his work go was easy and natural, he knew it would happen and he had no qualms about it. But the idea of letting John go might be the one thing that has ever truly scared Sherlock. When he did let John go, and spent those two years without him, he only did it because John would have been killed if he hadn't. He did it all for John. Those two years were spent making the world a safer place for John; Sherlock didn't even realize that until now.

Sherlock had never been so terrified in his life, because now, he finally understood his own weakness. John was the only thing he couldn't live without. He realized that he loves John.

Sherlock didn't realize he had grown quiet and slipped into his mind palace, but John did. If anything, John found it to be more amusing than annoying or rude. He smiled to himself and flipped through his newspaper, softly humming to himself.

When Sherlock came out of it, the first thing he noticed was that John was humming. His heart fluttered and he blinked a few times. John was humming again.

All those years apart, all those months of quiet, and he finally had his humming John back.

His lips parted and he didn't even notice the few joyful tears that had slipped. But his movements made John turn to look at him. The tears were the first thing he noticed. He's never seen Sherlock come out of his mind palace crying before.

"Sherlock, you alright?"

Sherlock was about to respond when he noticed the wetness on his face. He wiped his tears and said, "Yes, I'm quite alright."

"Are you sure?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped himself before any words came out. Perhaps it was his revelation, perhaps it was the humming, but something made him particularly open. So he told the truth. "I don't think you notice but you always had a habit of humming to yourself, a few times you would sing softly. It was never annoying, eventually it just became part of living here. I didn't realize how important it had become to me until I spent all that time without it. I haven't heard you hum in three years. I suppose I'm just ..... happy to hear it again."

John was only partially aware of his habit. Usually he wouldn't notice at first but would then become aware a few seconds after he started. Since Sherlock never told him to be quiet, he would assume the man either didn't notice or didn't care, so he would continue. He didn't realize his humming had become so important to Sherlock. Now that he did, he planned on humming more often.

\- - - - -

John knew absolutely nothing of Sherlock's feelings. All he knew is that he wanted to hum for Sherlock.

He found himself doing it much more often. He hummed everything. He hummed old songs, new songs, songs that weren't well-known but that he loved, tunes he'd heard Sherlock play on his violin a thousand times, little melodies he made up himself, he did it all.

Occasionally he would catch Sherlock staring at him while he hummed, to which the detective would quickly look away. Even when he didn't catch Sherlock stare, he felt it. He enjoyed the feeling. He liked knowing he had Sherlock's attention and was making him happy. It made him happy.

Sometimes he would stumble upon a song that would end up stuck in his head. He once spent an entire evening humming Boys Will By Bugs by Cavetown.

He found hummed the song to himself, but eventually, a few lyrics slipped. "..... and I really need a hug. I feel stupid, ugly, pretend it doesn't bother me." He went back to humming the rest of the song and Sherlock was a bit taken aback. The music choice of a person was often reflective of their own feelings, so why did John have an affinity for such a song?

When John finished, Sherlock immediately interjected with his own two cents. "I hope you realize you aren't stupid or ugly." He was quite firm in his statement. The firmness was a bit of a surprise to John as he didn't expect Sherlock would have such a strong opinion on the matter. But now that he's put it out there, he was quite flattered.

John found himself smiling, "I know Sherlock. I may not be a looker but I've still got game." He took a fun jab at himself and thought that that would be all, but not for Sherlock.

The taller man scoffed, "Don't be daft, John. You're a handsome man."

John let out a cough to hide the giddy chuckle that wanted to come out. A larger smile forced it's way onto his face and his cheeks went pink. "Sherlock, really?"

He didn't understand why Sherlock would say such a thing.

Sherlock pushed back a smirk at John's physical reaction. "John, you aren't a stupid man so don't say such a stupid thing, even if it is a joke. You're quite unarguably handsome. Even factoring in personal tastes, you're a naturally handsome man."

John tilted his head. "Oh? And what are your personal tastes?"

"Masculine. Short. Intelligent." He droned out with a shrug. He didn't want to say blonde because as John's hair would soon turn silver and he didn't want John to ever be under the impression that his hair color mattered to Sherlock.

This was a surprise to John, who had always assumed Sherlock might be asexual or something of that sort. "Oh, I didn't realize you were interested in blokes."

"Neither I about you. I had been under the impression that you only like women."

John nodded, ending the conversation there. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself smiling at this newfound knowledge. That confused him a bit. Why was he happy that Sherlock liked men?

He thought about it a bit and soon found himself entertaining the idea that he might be interested in Sherlock. Impossible. They were only friends. He smiled to himself and tried to shake off the idea. But he couldn't. Now that it was there, it seemed the idea would stay a while.

He decided to review it just to further assure himself that he didn't like Sherlock in that manner. He figured that once he assured himself, the idea would fade.

Was he really willing to wake up in the morning to Sherlock's face, spend the next few decades chasing killers, sleep with Sherlock, eat each meal together, talk every day for hours on end, buy each other flowers, wine and dine each other on anniversaries, get married, maybe adopt a kid or two along the way, and eventually end up retiring to Sussex to keep bees with Sherlock? _'Yes'_

He blinked a few times in surprise at his own thought.

After asking himself the question, he found his answer had come without any hesitation whatsoever.

He tried asking himself a different question. Was he willing to meet someone new, date a while, get to know them, live somewhere else, with someone else, get married, have a kid of his own or maybe adopt one if he married a man, wake up to someone else's face, eat his meals with someone else, and retire with someone else and spend their years getting old together?

No answer came immediately, there was a lot of hesitation. But he found himself physically frowning at the thought. He didn't like it, and it didn't make him nearly as happy as the thought of being with Sherlock did.

He didn't realize it at first, but he found himself humming How Will I Know by Whitney Houston. He let a smile creep onto his face as he hummed the song, finding it fit his mood perfectly.

Does he want to grow old with Sherlock, does he want to spend the rest of his life with this man? _'Yes'_

The more he thought about it, the more John realized he didn't want anything to change. This is what he wanted. His life is perfect as it is. He wants to spend the rest of his days saving lives, hunting killers, living with Sherlock, and one day he wanted to treat all the wounds Sherlock will get from being stung by bees.

He was not only content, but he was excited by living the rest of his life like that. The idea felt warm and cozy to him. It felt right.

In that moment, John decided that somehow, he was going to be with Sherlock.

If masculine, short, and intelligent was his type then it sounded like he had a shot. He wasn't sure how he was going to charm Sherlock, but he liked the challenge.

\- - - - -

"And I need you now tonight. And I need you more than ever. And if you only hold me tight. We'll be holding on forever." John softly sang the words and he bobbed his head to the tune. He actually hated Total Eclipse of the Heart, but it was stuck in his head since he heard it play in a cab's radio earlier. He'd been humming a lot of little love songs like that around Sherlock over the past week, hoping to maybe put it in Sherlock's mind to start thinking of him in that manner. But Sherlock took it as the opposite.

"Alright, out with it. Who is it you're seeing?"

John raised an eyebrow. "No one."

"Then who is it you've found yourself thinking of. You aren't humming love songs for no reason."

He shrugged, "I heard Total Eclipse of the Heart on the radio and it's been stuck in my head. I actually hate that song. Just a few days ago I hummed three songs from Aladdin but you didn't ask if I found a magic carpet or happened upon a genie."

Sherlock let out a chuckle. "I suppose you're right."

John looked back down at his newspaper and he thought a moment, thinking that maybe now was a good time to try and make a move on Sherlock. "Would you fancy going to Angelo's tonight?"

Sherlock tilted his head, they only go to Angelo's to celebrate something or for special occasions. "Is today significant?"

"No, I was just wanting some pasta."

"Oh, then I would love to accompany you to Angelo's."

Sherlock didn't believe John for a second. He knew something was up. Angelo's was a very important place to them and they _always_ went to Angelo's on special occasions or to celebrate something. Although John could occasionally be a bit spontaneous, this was out of character. John would never suggest Angelo's unless it was special. So what was special about today?

It wasn't anyone's birthday, it wasn't a holiday, this date has never been important before, and nothing worth celebrating has occurred. Earlier, John wasn't excited about anything. It was a normal day until John mentioned Angelo's. In fact, John didn't become excited until he mentioned Angelo's. The day had just recently become special to John.

Only two things were occurring that could trigger such a response from John; their conversation about whether or not John was seeing someone, or John reading the newspaper. He aimed to examine both possibilities.

When John got up to make some more tea, Sherlock looked through the newspaper. He scanned the entirety of it and nothing happened today that John would deem worthy enough for celebration. Conclusion, their conversation about John having a potential paramour is what triggered the day becoming special.

While John was in the kitchen, Sherlock heard it. A low humming which soon turned to words being softly sung. "Chided by the silence of the hushed sublime. Blind to the purpose of the brute divine, but you were mine. Staring into blackness at some distant star. The thrill of knowing how alone we are. unknown we are." Even though he sung softly, the words were strong and powerful. It sent chills up Sherlock's spine and made his hair stand on end to hear such an intense and melodic voice radiating off the walls of their flat.

Sherlock closed his eyes and for once, he didn't think at all. He didn't want to think because if he thought then he would be taken out of the moment, and what a gripping moment it was. He didn't move, didn't think, he just focused on John's chilling voice. "I have never loved a darker blue. Than the darkness I have known in you." It felt like John was singing to him and Sherlock was hanging on to every word. Eyes closed, no longer able to focus on the feeling of the chair beneath him or the smells of the room, he developed a tunnel vision for John's voice. He never wanted the song to end. He could spent the rest of his life like this, sitting there, letting John's voice wash over him, silencing his mind and taking him away.

"When our truth is burned from history. By those who figure justice in fond memory, witness me. Like fire weeping from a cedar tree. Know that my love would burn with me, or live eternally. 'Cause there's no better love. That beckons above me, there's no better love. That ever has loved me, there's no better love. So darling, feel better love." Short runs littered John's song, each one making Sherlock fall deeper and deeper into his trance. John didn't even know it but in this moment he completely owned Sherlock. He silenced the mind of a genius and forced him to the mercy of his still body. Sherlock felt everything. Every thrill, hair on end, shiver, his skin crawling from him and yearning for the other, he was helpless to the things John's voice did to him.

"'Cause there's no better love. That's laid beside me, there's no better love. That justifies me! There's no better love. So darling, darling, feel better love! Feel better love."

Even after John stopped singing, Sherlock was silently begging for more. Just one more verse, one more chorus, encore. He needed more. He was wrapped around John's finger and he knew it. Once John's haunting voice stopped echoing off the walls, Sherlock felt like he could breathe again. He took a moment to open his eyes. He didn't want to, but he had to. He took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. He let his brain slowly awakened and his mind started to reel.

He realized how purposeful John sounded. It was different than his usual singing and humming. He wasn't singing just to sing, he was singing intentionally. It wasn't something he was unaware of. He knew what he was doing and he chose this song deliberately.

But why?

Had John been intentionally singing love songs this entire time? Had he been humming and singing love songs to Sherlock?

He blinked a few times and tried to shake off the revelation, deciding it was just his emotions clouding his judgement. Until he realized he might not be wrong.

John had been humming love songs for a few days now. He didn't see the day as important until Sherlock accused him of having a lover, which prompted John to ask Sherlock to accompany him to an emotionally significant restaurant that is normally reserved for special occasions. Now, it has become apparent that John's love songs aren't just an accidental representation of his emotions, but are very intentional song choices.

_'Did John ask me out on a date?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The untitled song in this chapter is Better Love by Hozier, 10/10 would recommend.


	2. Sweet Music

John almost felt silly getting dressed up.

He told himself it was only dinner at Angelo's and that there wasn't some deeper meaning or intention. But by the same token, he wished it was more than a simple dinner.

He pulled on some jeans that fit him well, which was already a bit out of character for him. He hadn't worn jeans like that since he was a young adult frequenting clubs and bars. But nevertheless, he hoped that showing himself off a bit would help to catch Sherlock's eye. He pulled off his jumper and put on a light grey shirt, tucked in the front, put on brown boots, and a black jacket. He felt like an absolute idiot. He wasn't even going on an official date and yet he was more concerned with his tonight’s outfit than he was on his real dates. But he did look good. Even he had to admit that he hadn't lost his touch.

John even went as far as to fix his hair a bit. Usually he brushed it so it was flat and smooth, but today he ran his fingers through his hair a bit to reveal it's natural bit of volume. He spritzed on a bit of his favorite cologne, had a mint, and double checked that he had on enough deodorant. He skipped out on shaving and decided to keep the bit of stubble he had grown since it went well with his slightly rugged look.

After pacing around his room another five minutes and checking the mirror three times, he decided he was ready.

He went downstairs and acted as if he tonight was just another night for him. "Sherlock, are you ready to go?"

Sherlock looked up from where he had been sitting. He spent the last half hour trying to figure out if this was a date or not. When he looked up and saw John's outfit, there was no doubt in his mind that this must be a date.

He stood up, "Yes."

As they walked out, John held the door for him and Sherlock smelt what he recognized to be John's favorite cologne, the one he only wore on occasions where he was trying to impress someone. He also noticed John's eyes. John's eyes had always been a deep blue, but recently, Sherlock has noticed that John most definitely has central heterochromia. While his eyes were mostly blue, his pupil was surrounded by a caramel color that seemed to pop whenever John smiled.

Sherlock has something similar, partial heterochromia, where parts of his iris were a slightly different shade than the rest of his bluish-green eyes.

He never thought his own eyes significant, but he thought John's were absolutely gorgeous. His eyes drifted lower as he walked by John, but he quickly caught himself and looked away before he could properly ogle John's bum.

They headed outside and walked to Angelo's.

The walk was quiet and comfortable. The both of them were mentally trying to figure out if they could consider this a date, but John was under the impression that Sherlock had no romantic feelings for him.

Somehow, even their short walk ended up being filled with music. A small store was playing some shitty pop song that John was familiar with. Sherlock walked a bit slower so he could focus on John's humming. Although he pushed it back, it made him want to smile to hear John's humming once again. Much to Sherlock's delight, the humming turned to singing.

"Oh I'm a sucker for you! You say the word and I'll go anywhere blindly." John didn't mean to show off, but he was a fan of riffs and runs. He made sure to slide them in whenever he could. "I'm a sucker for you, yeah. Any road you take, you know that you'll find me. I'm a sucker for all the subliminal things no one knows about you, about you. And you're making the typical me break my typical rules. It's true, I'm a sucker for you!"

Sherlock's smile forced its way onto his face and he watched John bop along to the song while they could still hear it. John noticed the smile, but he didn't say anything. He didn't want to ruin it. He was a bit prideful to know that he was the reason Sherlock was smiling. He hummed the rest of the song on their walk to Angelo's.

When they entered Angelo’s they were immediately seated at a table with a lit candle. Normally, the air of romance that Angelo tried to spark was ignored by the both of them. But tonight was different. They both felt the familiar atmosphere shift to something else. They were radiating in their feelings and it thickened the air around them, but neither of them spoke a word about it.

Angelo also noticed and he smiled a bit wider than usual as he caught on to their tension. Angelo was a jolly and optimistic fellow, but he was no fool. He knew when two people liked each other and he saw the way Sherlock and John were looking at each other. Quick glances, soft smiles, hesitance, uncertainly, they were fools in love. But Angelo acted as if nothing was different from their usual visits. He gave his normal greeting and asked for their drink orders, offering up a bottle of red wine with a special discount just for them. He half expected them to decline, as per usual, but John was feeling ballsy.

John decided that if he was going to have his proper date with Sherlock, then he needs to step up his game beyond looking nice. “Yea, actually. I think I’ll take the bottle. Is that good with you, Sherlock?”

Sherlock was surprised. He nodded though it was obvious that he was at least somewhat suspicious of John's intentions. “Of course.” He decided to take it as further confirmation that this may be a date.

Angelo couldn’t stop his smile from shifting to a smirk. “Which are you interested in?”

John glanced at the wines on the menu. He seemed to have something specific in mind and was scanning for it.

Angelo expected a simple Merlot or Pinot Noir, as did Sherlock. John wasn’t exactly a drinker and no one assumed he would know much about wines.

“Marques de Caceres.”

Angelo nodded and went to get the wine.

Sherlock blinked in surprise. “A Tempranillo?”

“Of course. I love a good Rioja. Crianza specifically, but I assume you already knew that.” Crianza wasn’t too rich but has more body than a Merlot. It’s high-quality to say the least.

“How do you know so much about wine?” Sherlock asked, unable to hide the fact that he was impressed by John’s knowledge.

John only smiled. He always did this on dates, not that Sherlock would know. He liked being able to pull his wine knowledge to impress his dates. “My sister is a recovering alcoholic, you learn a thing or two.” He usually didn’t tell them how he knew so much about wine, but he suspected that Sherlock would figure it out whether he said something or not.

“Right, of course.”

Angelo came back with the bottle of wine and poured their glasses, leaving the bottle at the table. He took their food orders and then he left them alone a while.

By Sherlock’s calculations he had just under twenty minutes to woo John with conversation before their food came.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been humming and singing a lot more often, why is that?”

John shrugged even though he knew why. “Because you like it. You seemed to really miss it, so I figured I should try and do it more often.”

“You’re doing it .....” he trailed off a bit, trying to process what John said. “You’re doing it for me?” He wasn't entirely sure what to make of that.

“Yea, I guess I am.”

“You, want me to be ..... happy?”

“Of course.”

Sherlock said nothing in response. He took note of the love in John’s gaze. It motivated him enough to test the waters. “Why are you so dressed up?”

“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”

“No, John. You’re dressed up, not overdressed. You’re wearing an outfit that you know looks particularly attractive on you though it isn’t part of your normal wear. You intentionally chose this outfit, why?”

John’s mouth opened and closed before he could come up with an excuse. He should have known he wouldn't be able to get away with something like that. Not with Sherlock's careful mind. “I wanted to look nice. Why? Is there a problem with it?”

“Yes.” Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. “You’re intentionally dressed in an attractive outfit that you hardly ever wear, you’re wearing your favorite cologne that you only ever wear when you want to impress someone, you’re ordering wine for the first time and pulling out knowledge on it, and you chose to eat at an emotionally significant restaurant that you only ever suggest we eat at during celebrations or special occasions.”

So much for charming John with his words.

John was taken aback. He briefly wondered if this had all been a mistake. If maybe he shouldn’t have done this. Part of him felt like he should have just been happy with the friendship that he had and not taken his chance. But he had come this far, no point in backing out now. “Well I’m sorry that you have a problem with all that. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He downed half his glass of wine to help him tend to the wounds on his ego.

Sherlock quickly realized what he had done and he backtracked. “Wait, no. That isn’t what I meant.”

“I know.”

He sighed and thought a moment, almost seeming pained. His struggle to put his feelings to words wasn't a new thing, but it had never been so obvious before. “No, you don’t. You know that I don’t mean to be rude, but you don’t know what I meant. What I’m trying to say, is that this is all very out of character and spontaneous, but that isn't a bad thing.” Sherlock huffed, looking at the ground as he tried to find the right words to say before looking back up at John. "I." Was all he got out at first. "I'm sorry."

Now they were getting somewhere. John leaned forward a bit, becoming more engaged with the conversation now that they were able to talk it out. “What’s wrong?” He was worried that he made Sherlock uncomfortable.

Sherlock shifted in his seat. He wanted to avoid the truth but he knew he needed to be honest. He wished the truth was easier, but his heart prevented that. “It all feels very intimate and I suppose I don’t know how to handle that.” Sherlock was a man who could easily manipulate most social settings in his favor. But he didn’t want to do that with John. Rather than fabricated conversation and emotions, he wanted to be genuine, no matter how awkward he genuinely was.

John nodded, seeming to understand. He should have known that courting Sherlock wouldn’t be normal. But then again, normal is boring. “Do you not like the intimacy of it?”

Sherlock felt his cheeks go light pink. Something about the question embarrassed him a bit. “It isn’t that I don’t like it, it’s just unfamiliar. I do ..... I do like it, that is. I like it, but only because it’s with you. I wouldn’t like it if it were any other person.”

John couldn’t help his pride swelling a bit at that. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No. I am enjoying myself. I’m only a bit confused. You’re being strange, John.” This wasn't normal. Everything about it was abnormally intimate and Sherlock didn't know how to respond to that.

He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t deduce it?”

The genius tilted his head and sighed silently. He found himself struggling once again to explain himself. He settled on, “I think I already have but I don’t want to be wrong.”

John blinked. It wasn’t the response he had been expecting. Sherlock was usually confident in his deductions, but now, he was shy and uncertain. He reached across the table and set his hand on top of Sherlock’s. “You might not be.” He encouraged.

Sherlock looked into John’s eyes a moment, the pink on his cheeks darkening. For a moment, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he was correct. John moving his hand on top of Sherlock's was a move he didn't see coming. It was a shock because he almost always saw every move coming, even before the person in question knew they were going to make it. Not always being able to predict John excited him. He liked that he finally found someone who wasn't as predictable as everyone else. So while he had the confidence, he said it. “This is a date. You have romantic feelings for me.”

Now John was the one blushing. He let out a nervous chuckle and nodded, “You’re correct.”

“Why didn't you tell me this was a date? I would have dressed nicer.” Sherlock complained, indignant that he was dressed so normally on his first date with John.

He cracked a smile, “Because I wasn’t sure if you would want this to be a date. What would you of worn?”

“My maroon button-up that you like so much and my black suit jacket.”

John raised an eyebrow, “What makes you think I like your maroon button-up? I’ve never said anything about it before.” Sherlock wasn't wrong, obviously, but John still wanted to know how he figured it out.

“Because you aren’t blind, John. That silk maroon with my complexion and hair color can illicit lust from anyone who looks upon me.” He spoke as if it were axiomatic.

John let out a bit of a loud laugh at that. He took a moment to calm down and said, “I remember the first time I saw you in it. That’s when I knew I’d never see you as just a friend. Part of me would always want you, or at the very least, wonder what if.”

Sherlock was taken aback. “Really?” He didn’t think he actually looked that good in the shirt. His boasting about his appearance was mostly done with the intention of making John laugh, which it did.

“Yea. You do look stunning in it. But then again, you look gorgeous in everything you wear. Even your bed sheets.” He gave a sly smirk.

Sherlock’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something but then he abruptly closed his mouth. He was in shock by John’s shameless flirting. “I-I.” Was all he could get out. He's been flirted with before. Many times, by many people, with varying amounts of skill. Flirting had never actually worked on him until now, likely due to this being the first time he's been flirted with by someone he actually cares for.

John grinned, “If only I had known earlier that flirting could shut you up.” He joked. “I didn’t realize you got flustered so easily. Funny considering you regularly flirt to get information on cases. And I've seen you get flirted with, but it never works. What makes this different?”

“I actually care about you and your opinion of me. The rest of them never mattered.”

“Just me then?”

“Just you.”

John smiled, a bit giddy. “Well expect me to flirt much more often. Shame it makes you get all quiet, your voice is absolute sin.”

“John!” He scolded softly. His eyes a bit wide as he discreetly looked around to make sure no one else heard what John was saying. He couldn't believe how shameless John had become. Only moments ago Sherlock saw him as his polite, cardigan-wearing, best friend. How he was on a date with a unabashed debauchee.

“It is.” He defended. “Deep, strong, seductive, full, it’s like dark chocolate. Makes my mind wander.” He winked.

Sherlock’s cheeks nearly matched the wine. “John Hamish Watson, I swear if you don’t stop I’ll set the flat on fire.”

“Not if you’re preoccupied with m-“

Angelo stepped in with their food. They thanked him and began to eat and drink. Of course they kept up conversation while they dined and John flirted at every possible moment. He enjoyed watching Sherlock get flustered and trip over his words. He liked that he could get that reaction out of a normally composed and put-together man.

“What about yourself?” John asked.

“What about me?”

“We’ve established I have feelings for you. How do you feel about me?”

Sherlock noticed how John’s jaw tightened, he began to rub the pad of his thumb back and forth over his fingernails, and a nervous smile took over his features. John was anxious.

“I have romantic feelings for you as well. I realized it the night you started humming again.”

John chuckled, “Ah, I’m such a good singer you fell in love.” He joked.

“Yes.”

John blinked in surprise as Sherlock elaborated, “I came to realize I couldn’t live without your voice. Which led to me realizing I can’t live without the rest of you either. I realized that I need you more that I need anything else. I realized that I never want to be without you. I know I said I'm married to my work, but I do plan on retiring one day. I know that someday I won't be here solving crimes and chasing killers through the streets of London. But living without you .....” He trailed off a moment, taking a deep breath. "Living without you isn't an option. From the moment I met you it never was. I let you in further than I've ever let anyone. You're part of me now." He blinked a few times, trying to compose himself. He'd never been so honest about his feelings before. His chest tightened a bit and he felt somewhat overcome. "I let you in without any intention of letting you go. I need you John, and I always will. I wish I could say I didn't love you, because love is dangerous and unpredictable, but it's too late for that. I don't know when or why, and I don't think I ever will, but I love you."

John was frozen. He never thought he would hear Sherlock Holmes confess his love for another person, let alone him. Sherlock Holmes who has never been interested in relationships or love, was in love with him. He couldn't believe this was really happening, but he was so thankful that it was. His heart swelled. “I realized the same about you a week later.”

“So, is that what we’re going to do then? Spent the rest of our lives together?” It was a bold question and Sherlock knew that, but he wanted to make sure they were on the same page.

“So long as I have a place in your house in Sussex.”

“You do.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll be together forever.”

It was a heavy promise, but somehow, they both knew they could do it. Them, together forever? It was inevitable.

On the way home, John sang outright and he sang to Sherlock. He didn't care if people heard or saw them, which a few did. All he cared about was his song to Sherlock.

“So this is love, hmm. So this is love.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Cinderella, really?” He only recognized the song being from Cinderella because he had to watch the movie for a case involving a kidnapper who left Disney paraphernalia at crime scenes. He hated that case but he was never sure why. Now, he understood that he hated it because it upset John, who appreciated Disney and had seen every princess movie they’ve ever made.

“So this is what makes life divine. I'm all aglow, hmm. And now I know.” Again, he added his runs and riffs that Sherlock was starting to find a bit charming.

Sherlock cracked a smile and chuckled. “The song is more important than conversation?”

John nodded as he sang, “The key to all heaven is mine! My heart has wings, hmm. And I can fly.”

Sherlock unlocked their flat and held the door open, “Please get inside.” He knew John was about to start belting and he didn’t want to alert the neighbors.

“I'll touch every star in the sky!” John sang aloud as he stepped inside. His voice filling up the room with his strong sound. It made Mrs. Hudson jump, but she recognized the song. She smirked to herself and decided not to comment on it. She didn't want to ruin their little moment together. A moment she had been waiting for, for years.

He headed up the stairs with Sherlock. “So this is the miracle, that I've been dreaming of.”

They stepped inside their flat and Sherlock found himself in John’s embrace as he finished his song.

“So this is love.”


End file.
